Not feeling like a chat that afternoon
in the hospital waiting room, I sat
at the back in a row of empty chairs.
I didn’t have long to wait before
I saw him coming, slightly shuffling,
but purposeful, across the floor
to occupy the chair right next
to mine — “You can get them here for free,
they’ll charge you for them at the chemist.”
“What? ” — “Urine specimen bottles.”
“Oh! ” — I didn’t want to know.
“They test you nowadays for
everything — just dip it in
and they can find all sorts of things
gone wrong with you, no messing.”
Oh! ” — I didn’t want to know.
“I had my results last week,
after my operation...” Just then
to my delight I spied my wife
beckoning me to come, so
“Sorry, mate, I’ll have to go”
and all the gory details of your cherished op.,
thank God, I’ll never get to know.
Pete Crowther
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/in-the-hospital-waiting-room/
